“Draw the curtains” she said,“the windows aren’t our allies”.But I laughed at herand poured a second cup of tea.

“What?” I asked,“would you swallow up the viewjust to block a pane’s gaze?Would you spurn the bluebird and halt our conversations with the sun?

Do not blame the beach for glassor curse the glass for cutting.Poor guard that cannot glimpse itselfnor comprehend transparencystands blank, a silent filter to beautythat will not stay but passes through.”